From the moment we learned of the seriousness of the Dude Fire, life in Christopher Creek slowed to a crawl. It then came to a complete stop. Nothing else existed but the thought of the dreadful fire racing in our direction. The smell of smoke and the smoke itself served as a constant reminder of what was coming, even though at that time the fire was not yet visible to us.

In typical fashion, the locals started gathering in groups, either at Creekside or the Landmark, waiting for news of the fire's progression. The manager of Christopher Creek Lodge loaded up his wife and grandkids and drove into Payson to assure their safety, and checked into a motel. My husband Bob stayed (we lived in a cabin on the Lodge premises), mostly so he could answer the phone, which almost never stopped ringing. Calls were coming in from all over the country; several even came from as far away as England. The news had spread and people were concerned about their friends and their property. Many, of course, were just curious to find out what was going on.

The owners of the Lodge, Glenn a Rebecca Ashby, were in New Mexico, visiting with family, and Rebecca was responsible for about half of the calls that were coming in. At the time it didn't seem funny, but later on we had to chuckle about her concern over several cast iron artifacts she wanted Bob to move out of harm's way. Cast iron!

Late in the afternoon, Bob decided to drive out to the fish hatchery to see what they could see, so he and a friend left before the Forest Service close the road. I elected to stay put, as my nerves by then were too frazzled to actually go view the fire. And on top of that, I had absolutely no film... none in my camera... none in the refrigerator. I couldn't remember the last time I had been out of film, but at that particular time, I had none! So, with the exception of the last two, the photos on this page are not mine. They are from others who had film in their cameras!

When Bob returned, he was visibly shaken. It was the first time he had seen a forest fire. He couldn't shake the vision he described for me -- of the tree tops literally exploding into balls of fire, even though the actual flames hadn't touched them. The heat was so intense, he and his friend could feel it... miles away from the fire! At that point, they decided they had seen just about enough, and returned home.

At the same time, there were several other serious fires in the Southwestern United States - over in north Texas, in the Guadalupe Mountains of New Mexico, and also down in southern Arizona. This would affect fire containment in our area, as available fire crews were getting spread pretty thin.

Christopher/Kohl's Volunteer Fire Department members were called to assist in getting certain supplies to the fire crews. Dale Ashby was our Fire Chief at the time, but he also was a Forest Service employee, so he served in that capacity while our volunteers assisted.

During several recent interviews of the volunteers who were on the front lines during the worst of it, I discovered a kind of void or loss of memory when asked if they could recall any details of those terrible hours and days. No one seems to know if it's because of the time that has elapsed since then, or if it's a "mental block", filtering out those terrifying moments still too frightening to talk about. Jim Oliver and Pam Milhon were assisting, but their memories of who else was there are too sketchy to be of any help.

There is one interesting story about an incident that occurred on a ranch near the base of the Mogollon Rim. The rancher, explaining that the fire brought up too many bad memories, declined to be interviewed for this article, but I can tell you the story anyway.

Rumor has it that, in response to the Sheriff's evacuation order, this rancher quickly took his family into Payson, then returned to move all his livestock out of the area. At nighfall, having accomplished everything he could, he returned to his ranch once again. He just felt he should stay there, thinking that he might be of some help if the fire threatened to come too close. Plus, it was his ranch. He'd sooner walk to town barefoot than leave his place to burn up!

Since the ranch got electrical power from its own huge generator, it remained a glowing oasis in the night, even though the rest of the area's power had been cut off by the approaching fire. It wasn't long before one of the Sheriff's prowling helicopters spotted the flickering lights in the darkness and came whop-whop-whopping down out of the sky. The lawmen jumped out of the chopper and promptly arrested the befuddled rancher. For his heroic stand, he was rewarded with a free, one-way helicopter ride to the Gila County Jail. He learned the hard way that when the Sheriff tells you to evacuate, that means "Get out and stay out!" It's the law, it applies to you, and it's for your own good.

I had an opportunity to visit that same ranch later in the year and was able to see how awesome and how erratic the Dude Fire really had been. Here stood a pinion tree, burned to an ashen crisp, just feet away from an untouched farm house. Over there lay playground equipment, melted down into the ground, with no evidence of flames having been anywhere close. Some structures had been completely gutted, while others nearby were not even touched. Wide meadows full of lush, green oaks and tall grasses, were dotted randomly here and there by charred, blackened juniper and pine trees, each standing in its own pool of burned grass.

The days following the initial alert just got worse and worse. There were more communities evacuated - Verde Glen, Bonita Creek Estates, then Kohl's Ranch, just five miles to the west of us. When Christopher Creek was finally put on standby, we decided I would drive up on top of the Rim to Forest Lakes Lodge and stay there 'till things calmed down. Bob decided not to go, feeling he should stay there at the lodge and "go down with the ship", or at least stick it out until he was ordered to evacuate, but he loaded the TV set into the car with me because he didn't want to take a chance on missing the football season. The only other things I took were my camera equipment and a few old photographs. I still had no film!

When I checked into Forest Lakes Lodge, I asked the clerk what he had heard about the fire, and his puzzled look said it all. He didn't know a thing about it! He hadn't read or heard anything, but he had wondered why the traffic had slowed down so much!

The next morning I went back down to Christopher Creek, feeling guilty for leaving Bob to "go down with the ship", and as I came down off the Rim, the smoke became so heavy that the village was completely hidden from view.

The fire by that time had taken on a life of its own and was killing people as well as the forest. Lost to the inferno were five brave Perryville State Prison inmates and an administrative worker, all of whom had been fearlessly working the fire lines.

There now stands a memorial for those lost lives in the Bonita Creek area:

James E. Ellis, 34; Joseph L. Chacon, 25; Alex Contreras, 33;
James L. Denney, 39; Curtis E. Springfield, 24; and Sandra J. Bachman.

According to a Forest Service report provided by local Christophert Creek resident, Susan Keown, "During the burning period on Wednesday, an additional 1500 acres were burned. The fire moved primarily in a south-southeasterly direction toward the Tonto Creek area. Bonita Creek had 47 structures destroyed. One structure was destroyed in the Ellison Estates subdivision, and four structures were destroyed in the Pyle Ranch area. The fire then over ran the Zane Grey Cabin area, destroying three structures, one of which was the historic Zane Grey Cabin itself. The fire continued to burn through the Tonto Creek Fish Hatchery, with just one small structure being destroyed.

This photo shows that one small structure - it was a cabin "Babe" Haught had helped build many years ago. I took that photo one week before the Dude Fire. Later, I was allowed to return to the site to take an "one week after" photo. As you can see, all that was left was the cement foundation, yet green trees stand close by, showing the erratic burning pattern of this horrific fire.

Next installment: A photographic essay of the Dude Fire burn area taken ten years later. Follow along on a trip that takes us west through the foothills from Highway 260 through the Bonita Creek area over to Highway 87, then up on top of the Mogollon Rim as we come back east and down again to Highway 260.